To Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores
by Awesome Maple
Summary: A new life. A business trip. An adventure. A job. A family reunion. All excellent ideas to board the RMS Titanic on April 10th, 1912. But not all of these dreams will live on past the night of April 14th, and some will be buried, lost at sea, due to a particular white iceberg... Whose will live on? Multiple pairings, AU, rated T for language. UPD8 AUGUST 6th, then Tue/Thurs up8s!
1. April 6th, 1912, Part I

As a result of O'th' Windy Side of the Law being on hiatus, I'm posting this series instead! It's March Break so I'll try to update a few times.

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

* * *

**April 6th, 1912, Part I **

Gilbert knew he should have paid for them, but stealing was in his nature.

Gilbert walked with a guilty conscience up the streets of Southampton, English accents chattering excitedly and swirling all around him. He was a foreigner, a German, and his English wasn't very good, so he had a difficult time understanding what they said as he squeezed past them in the busy marketplace. The tickets burned in his pocket, and he kept a firm hand on them, nearly crinkling them. He would not let go until he got home.

He hastened his pace and rounded the corner up the cobblestone streets, which were slick with a recent drizzle. He'd been in Southampton for a while, yet wasn't used to the wetness of the country, England, yet. How long at he been here? Was it a month, perhaps? Three weeks? Five? He shook his head as he rounded another corner, crossing a pub. It didn't matter.

Gilbert made it quickly to his tiny apartment, which he'd rented, from a sweet old lady. Too bad he would have to steal into the night, leaving one day early, in order to not pay. He hated cheating old people of their money. He checked the time on his cheap watch.

16:32. Ludwig should be waking up from his nap right about now.

Gilbert scampered up the steps as fast as he possibly could, the tickets feeling hot as live coals in his hand. He reached the top floor and unlocked the door to the quaint apartment. His heart fluttered with excitement.

"Gilbert!" A sleepy 8-year-old Ludwig poked his head around the corner and grinned widely before running to Gilbert as Gilbert took off his jacket and hat and shoes. He carefully pulled out the two tickets as Ludwig clutched his older brother's waist.

"I got the tickets," Gilbert said, masking the guilt completely. He'd stolen them from an elderly, poor-looking man. It would probably have cost him a lot, but it would have cost Gilbert more. He felt the guilt, but pushed it aside. This was for his little brother.

"Wahoo!" Ludwig cheered, and Gilbert smiled a soft smile as he ruffled Ludwig's long blond hair. As he ran his fingers through the boy's hair, he realized just how long it really was. _He needs a haircut, and so do I_, Gilbert thought as he brushed his silvery hair out of his eyes, _we could go to the barber tomorrow, we have enough money._

"Can I see them?" Ludwig was a little ball of energy. Gilbert had promised his little brother a better land where they didn't have to run away from anybody anymore. Where Ludwig could get an education and Gilbert could get a job. Gilbert crouched down to Ludwig's height and demonstrated the tickets.

"See?" Gilbert pointed to the writing, "What does it say?" He asked. Ludwig studied the tickets for a moment.

"Third Class ticket to the Titanic... Departure on April 10th, 1912," Ludwig picked out only the important information. _Smart kid. _

"That's right buddy!" Gilbert pulled Ludwig towards the miniature kitchen, setting the tickets on the table but never letting them out of his sight for a second,

"We're on our way to freedom!"

* * *

Tanja and Berwald are their dinner calmly, in silence. Peter, their little 13-year-old source of joy, slurped his soup loudly.

Today was a good day in the Finnish-Swedish/Danish-rooted household. Berwald had gotten a job aboard the Titanic as a stocker, so they'd basically gotten their ticket to New York for free. It was hard, long labour, in the boilers, nestled deep into the belly of the Titanic, but at least they were getting a way to NYC, and then to Canada.

The family of three celebrated in silence. Berwald was a quiet and intimidating man, and Tanja was sweet and equally quiet. This would change once Berwald's brother would walk through the door tomorrow, rousing the household, which had recently been sold to another English family.

Their son Peter, on the other hand, took strongly after Mathias, his uncle, in terms of loud mannerisms. He was the one that filled he quiet household with noise and he was a spring of life.

Peter leapt from the table and rushed to the dining room, making boat noises. Tanja smiled graciously and Berwald mustered his own smile in return.

Today was a good day.

* * *

"Do we have to go?" Alfred whined yet again. 16-year-old Alfred slumped his shoulders as he packed up his suitcase. He folded a shirt haphazardly before tossing it in. His bed was across from his brother's and their suitcases were sitting open on top, clothes laid out everywhere.

"Look," his twin brother Matt sighed, aggravated with his brother's complaining, "dad needs to go for work, and they already paid for the tickets. It'll be an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! This is the biggest ship ever!"

"Ugh," Alfred groaned as he tossed in some socks, "we're missing some school, which is okay, but that means I'm also not going to see my friends for the rest of the year!" Alfred sat on his bed with his head in his hands.

He respected his father's demanding job as a... (Businessman? He didn't know.) But crossing the Atlantic was kind of ridiculous since it was the middle of April. Thank God it wasn't a permanent move.

"Come on," Matt said gruffly, closing his first suitcase and opening his second one, "stop being a wanker. Pack up your shit. We're leaving the tenth—remember? It's the sixth already. We still have to make the move from here all the way to Southampton! We're leaving tomorrow."

Alfred rubbed his eyes in frustration before he stood and continued packing his suitcase.

There was no way out of going to this trip and leaving his friends behind until June.

Whatever.

* * *

"Cut!" The director concluded, and Chiara snapped back to reality, breaking out of character.

"Perfect," the director, perched from his director's chair, praised the Italian actress. She was gorgeous, talented, and on her way to fame in America. Just that morning, Felicia had purchased two high-class tickets for the Titanic.

"Are we done for today?" Chiara asked, somewhat impatient. It has been a long day, as her partner kept messing up the scenes with his lines.

"Yes," the director grinned, and Chiara marched off set. Two days and the movie would be complete on her part, and she would be off to Southampton to freedom.

Chiara hastily washed off the makeup and got into regular pedestrian clothes, her sweet acting flare gone as she transformed back into the fiery young (and somewhat rude) adult she was. Her twin sister, Felicia, would be waiting at home, probably wolfing down some pasta.

She could envision the tickets in her mind's eye. They were sitting on the coffee table in their living room. The sisters shared an apartment in Wales and made movies for the Wale folk. It was so far the best job in Europe, the biggest movie that would come out in what, June? What a shame she didn't remember the title. Chiara was solely focused on getting to the Titanic.

_America, here I come._

* * *

Antonio, Roderich and Daniel sat huddled in a restaurant around a round table, enjoying a night out. Under the table were a viola, a violin and a fiddle, tucked safely away in their cases. The trio were born and raised English, but they were third-generation immigrants from Spain, Austria and Hungary respectively.

"I can't believe we managed to land a place in the orchestra on the Titanic!" Daniel exclaimed excitedly, sipping his coffee and tapping his foot delicately against the case of his fiddle.

"Now don't get too excited," Roderich warned him, taking a bite from his dessert, a small pastry, "we don't know if we're playing in the lounges or if we're playing above deck. Besides, they weren't clear if it was an acceptance letter or also a rejection letter." Antonio and Daniel rolled their eyes. Leave it up to Roderich to ruin the fun.

"Well," Antonio cut in, stirring his own coffee, "we have the letter right here, right now. It's time we opened it, don't you think?"

"Right," Daniel set down his empty coffee and took the envelope, which had been sitting in the middle of the table the entire course of their dinner. His green eyes scanned the white, slightly crinkled envelope of acceptance—or rejection—and he swiftly opened it, pulling out the letter and unfolding it.

"We're playing on deck!" Daniel whispered excitedly, and Antonio snatched it, wanting to see for himself. He grinned widely, passing it to the sceptical Austrian-blooded man.

"I guess we are!" Roderich matched their grins. His foot brushed the case of his violin as he sat up a little bit straighter. Just as they were going to make plans, a chubby finger tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see a Chinese man with a camera and a notepad, dressed somewhat stylishly, smiling down at him.

"Hello," he started, pulling up a chair and sitting down, "my name is Yao and I couldn't help but hear that you have been accepted as musicians on the Titanic! I am a reporter from Oxford—well, I was born in China, but immigrated here in 1890—and I am too going onto the Titanic. I was wondering—do you mind if I interview you and have your story published in the newspaper on board the Titanic, the_ Atlantic Daily Bulletin_?"

The trio looked at each other and nodded, and Daniel spoke up, with a wide smile,

"Why not?"

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

I feel almost _satanic_ right now. I know what is going to happen.

I am very, very, _very _excited to see your reactions!

This is my first historical AU, and I can't wait to see how it will turn out! And omg, just envision 8-year-old Ludwig. Just imagine it. I bet you you're smiling right now at how cute that is.

I got into the SNK fandom by the way. I might cosplay Levi!

Anyways, good luck with this fic.

~Awesome Maple


	2. April 6th, 1912, Part II

HEY GUYS!

New chapter! I'll try to be more regular. I don't have the next chapter complete so I'll try to finish April 7th Part I &amp; II today. I think you'll catch onto the structure of the story fairly quickly! And yes, I mean it to be short snippets of each character because... Hahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha ONLY I KNOW WHY *satanic laugh here*

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: Hetalia? Not mine.

* * *

**April 6th, 1912, Part II**

_Southampton, _

_6__th__ of April 1912_

_Dear Ludwig,_

_I got the tickets today! Do you know just how hard that was? I feel so guilty. That poor old man looks like he really needed them; it looked like NYC was really big for him… But the tickets were just out in the open. I knew I would have to steal the tickets, Ludwig. I knew it. I just didn't know when. I hope you can forgive me._

_I am writing in this journal for you and will give these letters to you on your 18__th__ birthday as a memento of what we did together. How I brought you across the Atlantic sea, the story of how you came to America. Reading about your younger self can be interesting, you know?_

_As I'm writing this I am watching you play cards by yourself. I don't know what you're playing—you really like to make up little games with your own rules. I taught you some math today and as usual, you excelled. I'm sorry I have to tutor you; it's just that we never stay in one place long enough for me to get a permanent job and to get you an education. I hope that the education I give you will be enough when I enrol you to a school somewhere in America. I'm working so hard to get money. Even getting us a haircut today felt like I'd paid with an arm and a leg. It's a miracle we have food to eat tonight._

_You know, Ludwig, you're a really big cock-blocker for me. Sorry, that's vulgar, but it's the truth. Women approach me, but as soon as they see you, they turn away, presuming I'm married. What the hell? We have an 11-year difference! I clearly look 19, and you're clearly 8. I guess people can't put two and two together that we're brothers. Okay… So maybe I look older because of my albinism, 25, max, to most people at first glance. Maybe that's why._

_I'm just rambling, sorry. Get used to them, because there will be a lot! It's time for your bedtime. _

_With love, _

_Your older brother,_

_—__Gilbert Beildschmidt_

* * *

_Ekaterina,_

_I am very excited to be coming back home. After studying for so many years in Buckingham, I am now going to be part of the deck crew on the RMS Titanic, and will make some money, just enough money to catch a train and find you in Boston! I look forward to seeing you and our sister Natalya._

_XOX,_

_—__Ivan_

_6/April/1912 _

* * *

_Kiku,_

_I've gone shopping for groceries. I went to the post office today and found that we have been accepted to be lookouts for the Titanic. I'll be back around 16:00._

_—__Lars_

* * *

_Hello Lukas,_

_I got the tickets to the RMS Titanic! I've gone to see Berwald to arrange our trip to Southampton tomorrow. I'll be back around 21:45._

_XOX,_

_—__Mathias_

_P.S. Emil went to his friend's—the kid from Hong Kong—house. Please pick him up around 15:00._

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

THERE YOU HAVE IT FOLKS! Around 550 words worth of letters!

Part I will be story. Part II will be letters. I wanted to try something new and I love writing in first person, so letters are hella fun. I hope you enjoyed it! To make up for it, the Part I of each day I'll try to meet the 4,000 word count. Anyways I'll try to stretch out this fic and make sure you get lots of time with lots of characters.

These two parts of April 6th, 1912 were shorter because you get a taste of each character involved. Although the story does revolve around 2 characters, I still want to touch on a bunch. Leave it to the Awesome Maple to try and get all the characters involved!

~Awesome Maple

P.S. Did you guys check out my cover for WMSB? I drew it myself! I'm really proud on it because I worked really hard on it.


	3. April 7th, 1912, Part I

NEW CHAPTER! WOOHOO!

Lots of character background this chapter!

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

**April 7th, 1912, Part I**

Marianne Kirkland crinkled her nose in disgust, as usual, at the food that she had let her husband cook. He had insisted that he cook for breakfast, and because she had stayed up and read a book all night long, she had been exhausted and agreed so that she could catch some sleep.

"Is something wrong?" Arthur Kirkland inquired, and Marianne, Alfred and Matt stared at him in disbelief.

"This food is horrible, dad," Alfred stuck out his tongue to reveal a burnt piece of toast that he'd tried to eat, "why did you bother cooking in the first place?"

"It's not that horrible!" Arthur huffed and took a big swig of coffee and a big bite out of… Something. They weren't sure what he had been trying to make. It tasted just fine to him. Then again, he really couldn't tell the difference between good food and bad food. Marianne was sure that had she not married Mr Kirkland, he would be dead by now because of food, probably.

"Are you done packing, boys?" Mrs Kirkland changed the subject abruptly.

"Yep!" Matt nodded. He was unusually cheery, which was kind of creepy for his brother, Alfred. Matt tended to be very grumpy at all times… Maybe it was because he got to get out of the dreary English weather? That's what it was, probably.

"I'm done too," Alfred added, pushing his plate away from him. He couldn't finish the food—it was just that bad. Arthur sighed at his failed attempt.

"You tried," his beautiful French wife shrugged and he made a sour face, straightening his jacket.

* * *

Matt watched the train pass through the countryside and he fiddled with his jacket, buttoning and unbuttoning the last button. It was a nervous tick of his.

If he was being honest with himself, Matt wasn't looking forward to the trip at all. He hated boats because he was constantly seasick. Trains were fine, as were cars, but boats… He covered it up by acting cheerily, but he started to feel as though it wasn't working anymore. He knew that Alfred could tell something was wrong, and he would eventually be confronted for it.

He decided to relax and try to savour the next few days on the train—they were making a direct train-to-ship non-stop voyage, taking the long way so they didn't have to stop at hotels or any places for the night. A smart move on his father's part, Matt had to admit.

He pulled out his book, _Winter's Tale_, by William Shakespeare, and began to skim it. He truly loved the play, but he didn't know why. He grinned as he traced with his fingers tiny doodles he'd made all over the pages. It had been printed oddly, where only one side of each page was printed on. It was a defect, but Matt loved it because it acted as a sketchbook as well. He hadn't even come close to finishing all the pages, because he doodled mostly in the margins. He made a goal to draw on each blank page by the time he arrived in New York.

With that goal in mind, Matt proceeded to reread and doodle on the pale, crinkled, and dog-eared pages of his book.

* * *

Ivan Braginsky, who was born and raised in Buckingham, woke up that morning feeling lively and refreshed. There were only three more days until he would be able to get on the boat to visit his two sisters.

His parents had divorced when his youngest sister, Natalya, had been born and his mother had taken the two girls to America and his father had remained with Ivan in the UK. His father had moved back to Russia permanently in January 1899, and Ivan had been living alone in Buckingham since.

Once he had finished getting dressed, he put on his top hat to enjoy a morning stroll. He was a simple man, but he tried to act sophisticated in the company of the British people to seem less intimidating: to blend in. Despite the fact that he too, was British, it didn't stop locals to have horrible misconceptions about him and his Russian lineage. They talked shit behind his back, thinking he couldn't understand them, only to be startled when he said something snippy, proving to them that yes, he did hear that they called him some nasty word.

Ivan tipped his hat politely at his neighbour as he made his way down to a nearby park, smiling at everybody who passed him. People seemed to nod understandingly—those that had bought tickets to the RMS Titanic all held the same grin. America was supposed to be marvellous, the answer to all their needs. Everybody was excited. Only a few had seen the ship in its full glory.

He breathed in the fresh air, smiling at a little girl who passed him, who shrank away before realizing it was genuine. He was just so happy.

Today was a very nice day for Ivan Braginsky.

* * *

Daniel, Antonio and Roderich were practicing in the street, playing any song they could think of, or just improvising. Their hands danced along the strings like magic, making many people stop and drop some money in their cases.

Daniel decided to have a small solo so he walked in front of his other two companions, and after a short nod, he went mad on the fiddle, creating eccentric and lively improvised tunes, hitting each note to perfection. He smiled at strangers and finished his solo with a whirlwind of a crescendo and a sudden drop of silence before walking back in line with his friends and starting again.

Roderich checked his clock, and seeing that it was lunchtime, faded until he had finished. Daniel and Antonio looked behind them, and seeing Roderich point to his watch, also finished up their parts in the improvised song. When the trio played, they were eerily quiet, never speaking a word to each other. Everything was communicated through little taps, nods, blinks and winks.

"Thank you, thank you," Antonio, the most docile of the three, smiled and collected the money from people that dumped the bills and coins into his hat.

"Where to?" Daniel asked as he closed his case with a loud click. The crowd dispersed.

"Restaurant?" Roderich asked, and Daniel nodded, "Sounds good to me. How about you, Toni?"

"Yeah, sounds good!" Antonio, often nicknamed Toni, grinned. They finished packing up their instruments and made their way to the nearest restaurant, occasionally signing pictures of them playing. They were steadily gaining popularity and enjoyed the attention. They had begun to make more money as a result of people talking about them, exclaiming how good they were, telling all their friends of the gifted Roderich, the attractive Toni and the eccentric Daniel.

They made their way to a booth with seats, and ordered. Just as they were about to make conversation, a thin man suddenly burst through the door, holding a child and brown leather suitcase, looking panicked. He scrambled under the trio's table and told them to 'say nothing'. Moments later, two policemen walked in, looking threatening.

"Have you seen a silver-haired man?" The police inquired, and the restaurant goers shook their heads. It wasn't their business and they knew it was better to keep their mouth shut. This side of the city, a slightly poorer side, often got into trouble. They had thus formed a mutual community and if the policeman asked where somebody was, they claimed they didn't see them.

"Alright," one policeman said, "he probably went into another restaurant or into an alleyway. We better get going."

"Fine," the second sighed, and the two walked out. A few moments later, the people resumed talking and a loud whisper by Daniel's legs was heard, "did they leave?"

"Yeah," Daniel nodded, and Gilbert pulled himself out under the table and sat in the booth, pulling the blond child up with him as well as his suitcase.

"Thank you," the silver-haired man looked gratefully at the trio. Some people looked at him curiously but then he was gone, whisked away from their thoughts.

"Why were you running?" Roderich asked. Toni kicked him under the table, "Rude!" he muttered.

"The lady I was renting an apartment from wanted the money a day early," the man looked around nervously, fiddling with his jacket and putting an arm around the child protectively, "and I was planning to leave in two nights before the money was due. I tried to tell her I didn't have the money at the moment but she called the cops on me."

"What's your name?" Toni asked, to which the pale-haired man replied, "Gilbert."

"Where are you from?" It was Daniel who inquired this time. He noted that this Gilbert man had unsettling (red?) eyes, which flickered from face to face, and the windows and doors.

"Germany," Gilbert replied again, examining the child, "by the way, this is my brother Ludwig." The more Gilbert spoke, the more evident his German accent was.

"How old are you?" Roderich asked, examining him. Up close, he no longer appeared to be 25, but around 20 years old.

"19," Gilbert stated. After seeing that his little brother, Ludwig, seemed fine except for a small scratch from his cheek, he pulled him closer. The trio watched as Gilbert suddenly froze, reached into his jacket's inner pocket, and sighed in content.

The child then asked something in a guttural language, the three all guessed to be German, and he replied with an affirmative tone. He asked something else, and the German teen replied no with a sad tone.

"We better be off," Gilbert sighed, and Daniel scooted out of the red booth, letting Gilbert pass through, "we've got to find a place to sleep."

"You could stay with us," Toni immediately offered, but Gilbert shook his head.

"It's too dangerous. I'll stick to the roofs and the dumps. After all, I only really need everything that's in this suitcase," Gilbert patted a tiny suitcase.

"Say," Roderich began, "are you heading to the RMS Titanic?"

Gilbert's hand flew up to his inner jacket pocket, where the tickets were, giving it away. They smiled as he turned a light shade of pink, "Yeah."

"We are too!" Daniel grinned, and Gilbert smiled brightly, "Then I'll see you on board! But I really have to go." His eyes flicked up to the door again.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us tonight?" Toni inquired, and Gilbert shook his head.

"What about dinner?" Daniel asked, cocking his head to the side. As if on cue, Gilbert's stomach growled loudly, and he hit it rather forcefully, making the trio wince. Ludwig's also growled, and with a small raise of his eyebrow to Daniel and an affirmative nod from the latter, Gilbert took a small slice of bread from their table and gave it to the child. Roderich looked at them in pity as Ludwig ate it, oblivious to the fact that his older brother had taken nothing out of politeness.

"Are you _sure_?" Toni insisted, and Gilbert nodded without hesitation. Daniel began to notice just how Gilbert's eyes were really sunken in and how badly his clothes fit him. They were oddly big but the sleeves were too short. Without warning, he grabbed Gilbert's wrist, which in a blink, suddenly slithered out of the iron fist Daniel had held it in. The three were surprised. Nobody got out of Daniel's grip.

In a flash, Daniel grabbed it again and examined how bony it was and how paper-thin fragile skin looked. He then inspected Ludwig's hand, seeing that it was perfectly healthy for a boy his age, maybe a little smaller than normal, but more or less fine.

"I don't need your help," Gilbert said faintly, blushing bright red and his eyes looking a little bit moist as he picked up Ludwig and his suitcase again, "I don't need your help. I don't need it," he muttered over and over, but made no move to leave.

Toni, during this time, along with Roderich, had wrapped up their food in napkins and stood from the booth.

"It's fine, Gilbert," Toni rested a hand on Gilbert's shoulder as he walked out of the booth, "you're not doing anything inconvenient. We're making almost double the money we usually make. We have enough to support at least six people—two more can't hurt us. Here, take this hat—it'll cover your hair."

Gilbert looked at them for a moment, and then nodded, giving in as he took Toni's hat. He was tired, and it showed. He looked thirty, not nineteen. Gilbert, seemingly out of habit, pulled Ludwig onto his back into a piggyback ride. He clutched the suitcase into the other.

"Want me to take it?" Daniel asked, and Gilbert shook his head.

"What if I need to make a run?" Gilbert's accent seemed especially strong now. He seemed emotional. Maybe his accent came out stronger when he was emotional?

"True," Daniel nodded, and they all filed out of the restaurant, Gilbert's eyes flickering warily around.

"How far are we from your place?" Gilbert muttered, wedging himself between Toni and Roderich while Daniel took the rear. It was almost like they were creating a protective barrier around the two vagabonds.

"Two blocks," Toni replied quietly.

The walk felt like an eternity to Gilbert. The relief that washed over him when the door to their spacious apartment was opened and he walked in was the biggest relief he'd ever felt in his life. Without warning, he dumped Ludwig onto one of the two green couches in the living room and collapsed into the other. The suitcase rested beside him, and the trio looked at him with pity. He'd been through so much and he was just so tired that he'd just crashed at three strangers' apartment.

"What should we do now?" Toni asked, locking the door behind them and kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket and hat. Roderich and Daniel followed suit.

"Get Ludwig some food," Gilbert just about slurred incoherently. He hadn't realized he was this tired. He hadn't eaten for two days though…

"No," Roderich said, "You need food. The child is asleep already, and I'm not letting you fall asleep without something in your stomach."

"Fine," Gilbert groaned, sitting up, "what do you have? Actually, I don't care, just give me something."

Antonio rushed over and gave him… Something. Gilbert wasn't sure what it was, but he accepted the bread-like food and shrugged out of his jacket, feeling much better already.

"You're going to need at least two or three new suits," Roderich commented. He hated that Gilbert's suit was so ill fitting.

"No!" Gilbert objected, before lowering his voice after stealing a glance at his little brother, who stirred, "No. I don't have money."

"We'll pay," Toni said, before putting a finger to Gilbert's lips, "don't even try to object. When Roderich gets an idea, there is no way you can change his mind."

Gilbert looked at the three and crossed his arms, sinking into the couch and pouting like a child, "Fine," he grumbled.

The three smiled at each other. They'd won him over.

* * *

Danish- and Swedish-blooded man and his Norwegian husband ignored the insults as they made their way through the market. They were one of the few openly gay couples and had been living in London for quite a while, but people never got used to them and insults were an everyday event. They couldn't recall a single day, since they'd been openly together, that an insult hadn't been thrown at their face or hadn't had a wad of spit land in front of their shoes.

Mathias, the man with the Danish mother and Swedish father, had his adopted child's hand grasped firmly in his right, and his husband, Lukas, trailed behind him.

"Emil," Mathias bent down as they stopped in front of a cart of hats, "don't you think it's time you got your own hat?"

Lukas sighed as some spit landed by his newly polished shoes. He didn't bother turning to see the person, who huffed and continued on their way. He adjusted his hat and jacket, and Mathias spoke to their adopted son in a low voice. Lukas picked up the word 'hat', but other than that, didn't hear what they were saying. Instead, he just watched his love buy a small fedora for Emil.

Emil turned to Lukas in glee, smiling a smile where two teeth were missing, and demonstrated his little hat. Lukas smiled and took his hand, leading him towards a new stand. Mathias trailed behind them silently. They had to keep their heads down in public. Homophobia was strong in this part of London.

"Lukas," Mathias stopped his husband as they then made their way to a bread stand, "it's starting to rain."

Sure enough, the raindrops had begun to fall from the sky.

"Should we head home?" Lukas asked, paying for the loaf of bread. The cobblestones slowly grew darker and slicker with each passing second. He continued, "We haven't finished shopping."

"I think we'll be fine," Mathias shrugged, "let's go home."

"Okay," the Norwegian nodded. Mathias led them quickly out of the market as it began to turn into a downright downpour. They started to run as they got home, trying to get out of the rain as quickly as possible.

Mathias, at some point, ended up putting Emil on his back so that the 9-year-old wouldn't slow the little family down. The boy held onto his new hat for dear life, giggling as the rain came down harder than ever. He loved the rain so much, and didn't understand why his fathers didn't.

* * *

Later that day, Lukas and Mathias finished packing their suitcases, getting ready to leave London the next day and meet up with Berwald and his family in Southampton. They had hoped to leave together, but for whatever reason, they had to settle with meeting each other the 9th of April—the day before they would actually board the Titanic.

"Hey Lukas!" Mathias called from the bedroom, an idea forming in his head, "Did you take my socks?"

"No?" Lukas walked in, spatula in hand, to an empty room a few seconds later. Before he could turn around, Mathias grabbed him from behind and hugged him tightly.

"What are you doing?" Lukas tried to scold Mathias, but Mathias simply grinned and placed a small trail of kisses down Lukas' ear to his shoulder. Lukas leaned back into his husband's chest, loving the feeling of him there. Lukas didn't know what he would do without Mathias.

"I love you," Lukas muttered, turning around to face him and give him a sweet kiss on the mouth.

"I love you too," Mathias smiled against his lips and held his Norwegian husband tightly, "are you excited to get onto the Titanic?"

"Yeah," Lukas grinned, his lips still pressed against Mathias', "I hope America will be a nice place."

"Mhmm," Mathias hummed, and proceeded to deepen the kiss.

Just as he was about to bring his hand to the small of Lukas' back, they heard a loud "Gross!" behind them, pulling apart quickly, just to see Emil make a disgusted face, totally grossed out that he saw his parents kissing before he ran away to the living room.

Lukas smacked his husband with the spatula lightly with a blush on his pale face, to which Mathias stuck his tongue out.

"Why the sudden affection?" Lukas asked as he headed back to the kitchen, Mathias in tow.

"Am I not allowed to show you that I love you?"

"Well, of course you are, but why in broad daylight?"

"Oh, I see," Mathias winked, "you were expecting something more?"

Lukas started to stutter, "Wh-what? N-no—I mean—I d-don't know! I thought w-we were—I mean—Ugh!" He threw his hands up in the air and turned to his black pot on top of the gas stove.

"I'm just kidding!" Lukas heard Mathias' voice float behind him. He heard Mathias start to set the table. Emil played on the floor of the kitchen with some toys.

"A-anyways," Lukas changed the subject, still a little bit flustered, "did you finish packing for you and Emil?"

"Yeah," Mathias drawled lazily as he set some glasses and cutlery on the table, "and by the way, I got the job as an elevator operator."

"Great!" Lukas congratulated him, but didn't turn around as he added some more salt to his stew.

"Is the food done, dad?" Emil ran up to Lukas, his little game abandoned.

"Almost…" Lukas added a little bit of oil, "Done!" He turned off the gas and shooed Emil to sit at their small wooden table. He set the pot down and served them one by one.

"Hey Lukas," Mathias looked at Lukas seductively (or at least, he tried), "do you want me to show you that I love you not 'in broad daylight'? In other words, tonight?"

"Shut up," Lukas grinned, turning pink again.

"What does that mean?" Emil asked, and both fathers turned red.

"Nothing," Mathias regained his cool more quickly, but Emil insisted.

"No, what do you mean? How do you show somebody you love them at night?"

The husbands looked at each other and tried not to laugh at the boy's innocence.

* * *

Lars and Kiku sat in perfect silence on the docks as they gazed at the moon. The water lapped at the wood below.

"Isn't it great?" Lars asked quietly, to his companion and best friend, "That we actually got the job?"

"It is," Kiku, a Japanese immigrant, nodded.

The two men wanted to be lookouts since they were children, and had met on a ship just a few years back. They'd moved in and been best friends ever since. The two didn't speak much, however, but they'd formed a strong bond anyways.

"Did you find somebody to rent the apartment?" Kiku asked Lars after a brief moment.

"Yes," Lars nodded, and that was that. They wanted to make some money while they were gone (well Lars wanted to), so getting somebody to rent their apartment while they went to America and back for a short period of time was the best solution. They guessed it would be a one or two year adventure away from the UK. Although they didn't say it out loud, they were very excited.

And that was perfectly okay with them.

* * *

Tanja finished packing her last dress into her suitcase when Berwald came into the room with Peter.

"We are going for a walk," Berwald said, his deep voice resonating within the room.

"That sounds good. Shall I make lunch?"

"We wanted to know if you wanted to come with us," Berwald shook his head. Peter looked pleadingly at her. Tanja bit her lip.

"You know my hip isn't doing well," Tanja frowned, rubbing her hip, "the doctor said I fractured it…"

"Walking should do you some good though," Berwald tried to convince her. He was worried about her hip but he wanted her to move. He felt bad that she did all the cooking and cleaning, and felt that women shouldn't be forced to do those things.

"Okay," Tanja nodded, "I'll get some fresh air."

Berwald mustered a smile as best as he could, and left the room with Peter to put on his jacket and hat. It had just rained, so the air was somewhat humid. He hoped America would bring them a warm, much-needed vacation.

"Daddy," Peter asked excitedly as Berwald slipped a coat onto the boy's shoulders, "when are we seeing uncle Mathias and uncle Lukas and Emil?"

"April 9th, I told you twice today," Berwald replied, "we didn't get the tickets for the same train."

"That sucks," Peter pouted a little bit, but brightened, "how long are we going to America for?"

"I told you this too," Berwald sighed, and Tanja appeared in the front hallway, "a month. Then we're getting back by boat again."

"Do you like boats mommy?" Peter inquired as they all stepped out of the door and onto the cobblestone path.

"I've never been on one sweetie," Tanja smiled, and Berwald was somewhat surprised. He never even thought about asking that.

"Daddy," Peter turned to his father and walked in the middle of the couple as they made their way to a small river by their house, "what are you doing again? On the Titanic?"

"I'm a stoker," Berwald replied. Peter asked him what that was, and rare smile crossed Berwald's face again.

"Well aren't you full of questions today," his smile stayed on for a few more seconds and he picked Peter's side, tickling him, before it dropped. Smiling and facial expressions just weren't his thing. It was like he was born and all facial expressions had remained trapped in his mother's womb, only to be sucked up by his younger brother Mathias, who had one of the most expressive faces he knew.

"Well," Peter asked again, "what do you do?"

"You see," Berwald began, and the rest of his explanation was tossed into the wind as Peter began to chase a butterfly, completely forgetting that Berwald was talking.

Berwald and Tanja linked their fingers together, exchanging a sweet glance as they watched Peter run up ahead and throw rocks into the water, splashing some birds.

What a silly little boy.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

That was a long-ass chapter. Lots of characters again, and I hope you're enjoying my attempts at writing the Nordic 5! I've never written them in depth, so it might take a while before I can get them perfected. Any mannerisms or things that they do that I should pay attention to and bring to light?

Anyways thanks for reading! Have a great day.

~Awesome Maple


	4. April 7th, 1912, Part II

I almost forgot to write this...

Also I might bleach my hair and go white. It's so pretty and I really want to try it! Should I go for it?

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: Here is some simple math. Hetalia = not mine. Was that difficult? I don't think so.

* * *

**April 7th, 1912, Part II**

_April 7__th__, 1912_

_Dear Luddy,_

_The lady I was 'renting' the apartment from wanted money a day early so we had to run away… But it turned out okay._

_I hid us in a restaurant under a table when we ran away from the cops that she called. The thing is, when they left and we were about to leave, the three people that were sitting there and thankfully kept their mouths shut ended up helping us. They gave us a place to sleep, and gave us food!_

_They are three men—Roderich, Antonio and Daniel. Roderich is kind of an uptight ass. Like he has a pole up his butt constantly. But he's not a bad guy! Antonio is really, really handsome and reminds me of sunshine. He speaks Spanish fluently, and although you probably won't remember him, you had so much fun with him by playing charades when you woke up after you passed out on the couch when we crashed at their place. Daniel is really assertive, but still very chill, like Antonio. Kind of scary at times, but nonetheless, a pretty cool guy. _

_Roderich is actually going to force us to buy new clothes tomorrow. We talked over a few things and you and I will help them earn money. Not sure how though… Probably doing some kind of act? I don't know._

_The best part is that they're playing on deck on the Titanic! We're not in the same class, unfortunately, but we'll be sticking together until we board. We don't have to run anymore._

_I'm tired. Like… Really, really, really tired. I'm going to sleep. _

_Love, _

_Gilbert_

* * *

_Dear Editor,_

_I've almost finished the article!_

_-Yao Wang_

* * *

_April 7__th__, 1912_

_Dear future Lukas, Emil and me,_

_I've decided to document our voyage on the Titanic! It will be interesting to read our adventure and vacation in America. _

_Today we didn't do much, apart from pack our stuff. Emil asked us how 'people show they love each other in the dark', or something along those lines. My god, you should have seen how red you were Lukas! It was adorable. _

_For the record, in case we forget this detail (I guess we can open it in 10 years? In 1922 maybe), we're not married. Not yet. Should we move to America to be open? I don't know, maybe London will change by 1914... All I know is that I hate seeing you flinch at all the insults. We really shouldn't have come out, you know? I shouldn't have asked you in public. It's my fault; I'm so stupid. Whatever, you will always be my husband in my eyes and I will forever call you my husband even it's not legal._

_We're staying way longer than Tanja and Berwald. Two years. We still have to find somebody who will rent our house… Or we can sell it. Three days… That's not a lot of time to do anything. We'll see what will happen._

_Emil, I bought you a hat today. You are so cute! You love the rain and water, and you should have seen your face when it started to pour buckets of rain this afternoon at the market. You were giggling and laughing… It was adorable._

_Anyways, I love you both,_

_—__Mathias_

* * *

_I'm on the train and Alfred won't shut the hell up. My god he's so annoying. I will be so seasick—I just know it._

_I hate boats._

_On the bright side I can spend my time filling this play/sketchbook with random mementos. _

* * *

_7__th__ of April 1912_

_Dear Chiara,_

_We are almost finished the movie! For context, we decided we would write letters to each other every day until we arrive to America and then give them to each other. It will be so much fun!_

_—__Felicia_

* * *

_April 7, 1912_

_Feli,_

_You like to give context, so you know what this is about. Anyways this is a letter I will be giving to you when we arrive in America. The movie is almost done and I'm so happy. My partner sucks so badly. He doesn't know how to act! _

_I have a feeling the Titanic will be a fun ride. I hope I'll find another Italian, or at least a Spaniard. _

_Anyways, I'm not really going anywhere with this right now. This was your idea to write letters, and I don't approve. This is stupid. Whatever. If this little project makes you happy, I'm willing._

_—__Chiara_

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

I hope you enjoyed all those little tidbits!

Should I go white? My hair is currently brown (which is my natural colour).

Love you lots,

~Awesome Maple


	5. April 8th, 1912, Part I

By request of the wonderful Viofan238, I have put up a new chapter. I barely have any internet, so I haven't had much time to research. It will not be 100% historically accurate. Time to speed write! I've quit cosplay, but I'll never quit fanfiction or Hetalia for that matter! It has helped me improve my writing. So I shall keep writing.

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Kind of wish I did though.

* * *

**April 8th, 1912, Part I **

"Hands behind your head! You are under arrest!" Mathias froze and put his hands behind his head. He'd been getting the mail from his mailbox when suddenly somebody told him to freeze. He was grabbed from behind and he saw a flash of uniform—cops.

"Why am I being arrested?" Mathias asked carefully, tiptoeing around what he wanted to say. He didn't know what was going on and hoped that this was some awful joke. His arms were grabbed roughly and he was handcuffed behind his back.

"You're under arrest," one of the cops with a gruff voice said, "for homosexuality."

"What?" Mathias couldn't believe it. Not now. Out of all the possible times he could have been arrested, now was not the time! Not two days to the boarding of the Titanic! He could feel his hopes and dreams slipping out of his grasp. He caught sight of Lukas' face in the window, and he pretended not to see in case they tried to arrest his lover too.

"Don't play dumb," the second cop said as Mathias was being pushed into a police buggy. The wood was black and uncomfortable and the whole buggy smelled horrible. He thought he saw dried blood on the corner but he tried to ignore it. The first cop continued,

"We know you are a homosexual based on many eye-witnesses. It is illegal to have intercourse with a man, and we know that you have been. We also know that you adopted a child. Or at least one of you did. I'm fairly sure it is your partner." Mathias stared ahead in shock, when many thoughts crossed his mind.

First of all, he had no idea that it was illegal to be gay here. Well, he had thought about it, but didn't know that that was possibly a reality. Second of all, all he could think of was, _how do I get out of here? How can I keep Lukas safe? Emil? What about the Titanic? What about Berwald and Tanja and Peter? _

Mathias watched helplessly out of the dirty windows of the buggy, seeing the vehicle get closer and closer to the jail. Faces looked into the buggy and he looked away at their malevolent grins. Somebody clearly hated him out there and wanted him arrested. He could think of a few people.

Mathias squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the shouts of the people outside.

_How do I get out of this mess?_

* * *

"What's wrong?" Alfred sat across from his brother on the train, finally asking the question that had probably been on his mind since Matt had acted happy.

"I don't want to go," Matt grumbled, "I get seasick."

"Seriously?" Alfred's eyes widened.

"Yeah," Matt grimaced, "but it doesn't really matter. I'll get used to it."

"Well," Alfred shrugged, "whatever you say."

Matt nodded. He sort of wanted Alfred to keep asking about it but he let it slide. He wanted his brother to just talk to him a little bit more, ask if he was okay, but Alfred was oblivious sometimes, and this was one of those times.

"Well anyways," Matt changed the subject after a bout of silence, "how about you? Are you going to miss your friends? What about your girlfriend?"

"I'll bring her some presents to bring her," Alfred nodded to himself. He was a popular guy, and so was Matt, to some extent. He was always accepted into his brother's circle of friends. Alfred had one steady girlfriend and knew that she wouldn't cheat, so he wasn't worried. Matt was in the same situation with his.

"What do you want to do?" Matt asked after more silence. They were so awkward in conversation every now and then. This was one of those occasions, when neither of them knew what to say. It was a rare moment of awkwardness, but they usually passed quickly.

Alfred shrugged, and then brightened. "Cards?"

"Sure," Matt grinned. Alfred pulled out a deck of cards. They were faded and had been bought when they were children.

"Go fish?" It was their favourite games. It was easy to play and highly entertaining. It brought back a lot of memories whenever they saw those cards.

"Sounds good," Matt grinned, putting thoughts of extreme seasickness aside. He wasn't on the Titanic _yet._ He didn't have to worry about it, not yet. That's what he told himself, anyway.

* * *

Lars and Kiku walked on the docks, searching for the Titanic. There was a rumour that it was out for workers to see, but they weren't entirely sure. They had nothing better to do anyways: they were just waiting for the 10th to hurry up and bring them around the world.

Everybody was antsy; everybody wanted to get onto the ship. Only two days left. Many people milled around on the docks, looking out to the shimmering water. There were many ships out, but none of them were the Titanic. Just as Lars and Kiku were about to leave, they heard a cry.

"Those who are working on the Titanic are asked to gather here! Spread the word! This is for people working in the communication rooms and other major departments! This is to get on the Titanic and claim a room early!" The man was short and chubby and had a great voice. Kiku and Lars made their way to the man easily.

"We are working on the Titanic," Lars stated, and the man looked at them.

"Do you have your papers?"

"No, they're at our apartment," Lars replied.

"Well it's no good. Go get your papers and belongings if you want to board early and get used to the ship."

"Where is the Titanic currently? Where are we going?" Lars drilled the man with questions. Lars was like that. If he wanted answers, he wanted answers and he wasn't afraid to grill people.

"Go to this address," the man slipped them a paper. A few people had gathered, having heard the man's yells, so they had to keep the address secret so that people who weren't actually working on the Titanic wouldn't see it before the unveiling of the big ship.

"Thanks," Lars tucked the address into his pocket, and the two men stealthily made their way back to their apartment where they would get ready and board this giant ship as soon as possible.

* * *

Lars and Kiku managed to get the people that would be renting their apartment settled in earlier than they'd planned, which worked out perfectly. They brought all their belongings with them in two suitcases and trotted along the cobblestone, uneven roads to a harbour.

They knocked on the door that would bring them inside the hangar where the enormous, unsinkable ship would be waiting for them.

"Who is this?" A man opened a peephole. Lars and Kiku held up their papers that confirmed that they were going to be working on the majestic ship, and they were silently let in.

The hangar in which they were in was enormous. It was tall and wide, and a big, metallic, and sleek ship was waiting for them, gently floating in the water. It was a little bit dark in the hangar because it had very few windows, but they were able to see clearly enough that they were to make their way up the steps onto the ship.

"Papers?" Another man asked as they reached the steps to get up onto the ship. They produced the papers and the man let them climb their way up to the ship's deck, where they were directed to a brightly lit room where electricians, engineers, and a few other people that were going to work were milling around. It appeared to be a dining hall. A Chinese man approached them.

"Hello! I am Mr. Yao Wang, a journalist for the Titanic. Care to be interviewed?"

The Dutch man and his Japanese friend looked at each other and shrugged.

"Sounds good," Lars stated, and Yao grinned.

* * *

"Feli!" Chiara yelled, and her sister called back, "What?"

"It's time to go!" Chiara yelled from the front door, her trunk in the hands of the butler. She'd brought an entire trunk because, like many people, she was going to be in America for a while. She was wearing a rather fashionable and somewhat expensive dress for the overnight train ride. She would then be staying for the day in Southampton with her sister in a rich hotel before boarding the Titanic as one of the first passengers that morning.

"I'm coming!" Feli yelled from another part of the house before she too emerged dressed very nicely. She dragged her trunk behind her with a great effort and a butler quickly came to her aid, taking it from her. They had a lot of things in the trunks. The rest of the actresses' things (furniture, clothes, and more) would arrive much later.

They quickly made their way into a buggy, saying goodbye to their house with a satisfied smile. Production had been cut short when they realized they didn't need the two girls for any more scenes. They were paid and simply left that side of the country by train.

The two women only had to stay in the buggy for twenty minutes before they were at the train station, the big black metal train bringing them one step closer to their dream.

"Please head to Platform 9," the man who looked as though he was from Turkey told them, and they nodded sweetly, heading to the platform. Their trunks were put away, and after a quick goodbye to their butlers, they showed the ticket man their tickets and boarded the train, the smell of steam and dirtiness plaguing the air.

They sat in the booth and looked at each other, smiling.

"It's finally happening, Feli," Chiara said, "it's finally happening."

Feliciana nodded and the two resorted to gazing out the dirty window. A few minutes later, there was a light knock on their little cab door and Chiara opened it, a little irked and annoyed that someone would dare disturb them.

"Hello," a shy boy of about ten or twelve held a scrap of paper, "I saw you two board the train… You're my favourite actresses. Can you sign my paper?" He had an accent that neither of the two could quite place, but shrugged it off. Chiara was about to slam the door when Feli piped up,

"Of course, _piccolino (1)_! Come here, yes?" She patted the spot on the plush, red, first class seat. The little boy smiled and sat beside her once Chiara moved out of the way.

"Where are you from?" Feli asked, and Chiara looked at her a little bit jealously. She was such a sweetheart when it came to… People in general, really, but especially children. She was the one who spoke for them—if Feliciana wasn't there, Chiara was basically useless and she had difficulty doing anything, really. Feli's English was also much better than hers, so she had no idea what she would do without her.

"I'm from Greece!" He smiled a toothy smile.

"Wow!" Feli looked genuinely shocked before recomposing herself, "Why are you here? That's so far away!"

"I'm visiting and seeing the Titanic," he smiled. Feli returned her attention to the signing of the paper.

"What is your name?"

"Heracles."

"What a nice name!" Feli bent over and wrote a small message and signed flamboyantly. She handed the paper to Chiara who also signed it. She noticed that it was, in reality, a ticket stub.

"Well you run off now," Feli smiled and gave the boy the ticket stub back. He smiled and stayed put for a few seconds, and Feli seemed to read his mind. She reached over and gave the child a hug, and he grinned, returning it. He was a little bit flushed when he retracted and he skipped out of the room.

"How are you so good?" Chiara asked sitting back down once she closed the door.

"I just love people," Feliciana replied, shrugging, "they're all so unique and interesting. What's there not to love? You should be more positive, _sorella (2)_."

"I can't! The world is a horrible place. People are greedy. How do you see good?" Chiara challenged her. She'd done it many times before, but she always tried to get a different reaction out of her sister. See if her 'technique' had changed.

"I've told you many times before. I never assume anything and always hope that people are happy. If they are unhappy, I want to make them happy," Feliciana diverted her attention to the countryside. She sighed dreamily. She loved to make people joyful, she loved being what she called a 'humble diva', and she absolutely loved her job. She worked with comedy movies and often watched her own movies in the movie theatres in disguise just to observe the reactions from people.

"_La vita è corta. La vita è preziosa, (3)_" Feliciana added before they sank into silence. Chiara nodded absentmindedly, mulling over her sister's words.

* * *

Berwald and Tanja finished packing, closing the trunks with a final click.

Their two wooden trunks were full of Tanja and Berwald and Peter's clothes. Berwald didn't need much as he was going to be working for most of the day and only really required a uniform, which he would receive upon arrival. It turns out that it was best that the crewmembers arrived early; so Tanja and Berwald packed up their stuff and left in the night, and would stay awake the whole train ride before they would arrive the 9th of April on the Titanic.

Peter was far too excited.

He was a bouncing ball of madness and he giggled like a fool. His parents could hardly keep him still as he was dressed with a little waistcoat and neat pants, finished off with a cap and cute little shoes.

The little family locked up their house and gave the keys to the neighbour before heading off in a buggy to the train station at around 22:00. The temperature wasn't warm and the air felt thick and damp. Tanja shivered when she stepped onto the station's cold floors. There were several other people getting ready to depart on the night train and a few were holding trunks just like Berwald and Tanja were doing. They handed off their trunks to a butler man and were going to get them when they got to London.

"I'm hungry!" Peter exclaimed suddenly when they boarded the train.

"We're being served dinner soon," Tanja told him, trying to get him calm. She got, out of her handheld bag, a pad of paper and some pens.

"How about you draw on here?" She asked while she brushed back some of her blonde hair out of her eyes as she handed him the drawing materials. Berwald sent her a grateful look. Peter happily obliged and started drawing some flowers and other objects that they couldn't recognize. They settled into discussion as they awaited their late night meal.

"Have you any word from your brother?" Tanja asked, leaning against the armrest and gazing at her husband.

"No," Berwald frowned, his light eyebrows furrowing, "he was supposed to send me a telegraph this morning confirming that we would meet in London tomorrow."

"Do you think anything happened?" Tanja asked worriedly, sitting upright.

"I'm sure he just forgot," Berwald shrugged, "he can be a real airhead sometimes."

"But never for things like telegraphs…" Tanja trailed off. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think it would be possible to send a telegraph on the train? Or call him?" Berwald asked, getting more and more concerned as the conversation was unfolding. Peter obliviously continued doodling.

"Yes," Tanja nodded, "I saw a sign saying there was a telegraph service and phone service on this train. Car 1."

"Stay here," Berwald stood, "I will go see if I can contact him by telephone. They recently installed a phone in their home."

"Good luck!" Tanja waved to him and gave him a peck on the lips when he bent down to give her a kiss. Peter stated that it was gross and the two simply ignored his comment, Berwald ruffling Peter's hair.

Berwald walked down the train from their car to Car 1, and found a man using the telephone. The tiny room was very dusty and there was a telegraph machine sitting in the right corner by the door to the conductor's car, and the telephone was on the left. The man spoke in a rapid language that Berwald couldn't understand, but the man finished quickly and Berwald picked up the phone, dialling the number and inserting some coins into the slot.

"_Hello?_" There was a voice on the other end that he recognized to be Lukas. It was a little bit hard to hear partially because of the noise of the train, but also because the quality of the phone wasn't exactly that great. Then again, they had picked the night train.

"It's Berwald," Berwald stated, "Where is my brother?"

"_He's…_" Lukas voice sounded fuzzy and muffled. Berwald couldn't understand what he said.

"What?" Berwald asked loudly, trying to get Lukas to understand that he couldn't hear him right.

"_He's in pris…n_," Berwald took a mental double take. Did he just say 'prison'? Impossible. Yes, his brother could be a hooligan, but what did he do?

"Prison?" Berwald asked, and Lukas affirmed with a 'yes'.

"_He was arr…d for hom…y_," Lukas said on the other end. Was he trying to say 'arrested'? Well it made sense, given the context…

"Hom-what?"

"_Homosex…lity_," Lukas said more clearly on the other line and Berwald's face paled. Arrested for being a homosexual? His brother was arrested for being with Lukas, his only love? Arresting someone for that was _legal_?

"What do we do?" Berwald asked, trembling. He strained to hear the words, pressing the phone closer to his ear, as if it would help him hear Lukas' voice better.

"_Meet… in Lon…n_," Lukas responded statically and fuzzily, "_as pl…d_."

"As planned?" Berwald confirmed, running a hand through his straw-yellow hair. His stomach notted.

"_Yes,_" Lukas said, "_we wi…_" Berwald struggled to fit the words together as the train went under a tunnel, creating a loud swooshing noise for a few seconds and cutting the line.

"Can you repeat that?" Berwald asked once the train was out of the tunnel.

"_We… bre… him ou…_" Berwald sighed in frustration and asked Lukas to repeat it again. This time, for a few seconds, he heard Lukas' voice clearly.

"_We will break him out_," Lukas' voice was no longer garbled. But it only lasted for a second.

"O—" Berwald started to say but the line was cut short. He cursed in Swedish. Berwald had always preferred Swedish to Danish in the family tongue. He'd used up all his time and he had no more change left, not to mention that there was a woman with long brown hair and a large pink flower looking distraught behind him.

Berwald handed her the phone and made his way back to his car.

"What happened?" Tanja frowned once Berwald closed the door and sat down. He saw that she had pulled out the foldable table and his meal was sitting there. He felt sick and knew that eating would be an effort tonight.

"Mathias has been arrested for homosexuality," Berwald said, his voice cracking momentarily. He cleared his throat. He usually didn't show emotion, and he sure wasn't about to start.

"Is that even legal?" Tanja gasped. She dropped the metal fork.

"Apparently so," Berwald sighed and covered his face in his hands. _Stay strong, be a man,_ Berwald told himself, feeling his masculinity slip away. _Get a grip_. He took a deep breath so that he wouldn't be so emotional anymore. He was strong.

"What are we going to do?" Tanja put her hand on his and pried it away from his face to hold it. Peter was watching his parents curiously.

"Yeah," he cut in, "what are we going to do? Is uncle Mathias okay? Are we going to break him out?" Peter grinned, starting to get excited at the prospect of doing something illegal and daring.

"Yes," Berwald said after a few seconds of silence, surprising his wife and Peter, "we are going to get Mathias out of there. I will get him to America if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

"Don't touch me there!" Gilbert squirmed and the Spaniard held Gilbert still as Roderich forced him to stay put so that he could measure him. They agreed that it was too dangerous for Gilbert and Ludwig to exit the house, so they decided to give the tailor his measures or buy suits if they could find the right size.

Roderich was currently measuring his inseams and Gilbert hated his legs being touched… But it had to be done. He would look less suspicious if everything fit properly. Ludwig also had to be measured but he just giggled because it tickled. Gilbert, on the other hand, protested and squirmed. He really was just 19 years old. He was just a child, and it was moments like these where it showed.

Originally they would have had the Germans earn their stay, but quickly gave up when they thought through all the risks. There were a few _wanted_ signs but nobody really cared. It was better to be safe than sorry, however.

"Done!" Roderich wrote down the last measurements. Gilbert sat down, relieved that the process was over. He really hated people touching him. It was probably after having years of people—police officers—touching and forcing him to be still, nearly taking Ludwig away from him. Once, he had stolen something and Ludwig was put in an orphanage for six months. Gilbert did his time and got Ludwig back, promising to never lose his little brother again.

"What now?" The German asked, and Roderich answered, "Well, we are going to get your stuff! Do you have any colour preference?"

"No, not really," Gilbert shook his head. He sighed, "Please, how can I help you pay for it?"

"There's nothing you can do," Antonio spoke up, "we agreed on this. Just stay here and we'll take care of you."

"But what's the point? Why do you care?" Gilbert asked, and he was met with silence.

"It's because we care," Antonio said quietly, "we've lived in poverty too, and we like helping people out. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Ok…" Gilbert said, but he wasn't convinced. He didn't trust them completely. For all he knew, they could be holding them here until the police came and they could get money.

"Well, we'll be off," Roderich said, and Gilbert nodded. He wished them goodbye and lay down on the couch, mulling about why they bothered helping him. They seemed genuine, and Gilbert was an excellent judge of character most of the time. Yes, he had slipped up in the past—like with the old woman—but he was pretty sure these guys were going to keep him safe. He got out his notebook, picked a page, and began to write.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

Alright, finally! A CHAPTER. I got out of my writer's block! I'll be updating frequently again. I'll do every Tuesday and Thursday, just like I did with _What Must Shall Be_ and _An Untimely Frost_, starting August 6th! I'm _so glad I'm back in the groove._ I took a really good mental break, and now I'm ready to relax and begin to write again. For those who have kept up, I applaud you for not losing faith. I hope this chapter will satisfy you at least a little bit.

I can't wait to finish this book. So much planned, so much in store! By the way, there were telephones on trains by 1912, or so my research tells me. If it's not historically accurate... Whoops. Lol. Anyways, have fun, stay hydrated, get some exercise, relax, and enjoy summer break!

See you in a week! Much love,

~Awesome Maple

Translations

1\. _Piccolino_ \- little one

2\. _Sorella_ \- sister

3\. _La vita è corta. La vita è preziosa _\- Life is short. Life is precious.


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